


If You're Going Through Hell

by NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feels, Frustration, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Boyfriend, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Thor: The Dark World, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 07:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21095768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: When it feels like everything is falling apart… sometimes, the only thing that helps is having someone to hold through the storm.





	If You're Going Through Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabentochter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/gifts).

_Breathe. You’re fine. Just breathe._

The breaths were sharp, every one physically _cutting_ as they pulled through Tony’s nose, as he pressed his lips together to try and keep from gasping. His hands were shaking hard enough that when he reached up to wipe his eyes he bumped his nose, and the sheer _stupidity_ of the moment caused him to bark a cough.

The coughs broke into a sniffle, and then—

_Breathe_. _Just breathe._

Getting it back under control was always harder, once he’d started. Deep breaths began to hitch, long inhales shortening into gasps and pants that were _this close_ to a sob. He felt _broken_, like his ribs were constricting his chest, like the arc reactor was back in place all over again. His head was splitting and his eyes _ached_, and he just—

He should have been _fine—_

But no matter how many times he told himself that he _should be_, it didn’t help. Because.

He wasn’t.

And it seemed like it was as simple as that.

The thing was though, he really had been perfectly okay less than an hour before. He’d had a good day– he’d picked up a gift at the Avengers Compound, which… well, the trip itself had its moment, but. That was fine– and then he’d gone to visit Peter, before heading back home for some time in the workshop.

He’d been working on the Mark 47, adding in a few little extra touches before it was finished. And maybe, his mind had wandered. Maybe his thoughts had just slipped into a state where he wasn’t even conscious of what he was thinking of beyond the movement of his fingers and the feel of metal against his skin. Maybe his memory had pulled up something he hadn’t been entirely aware was gnawing deep.

And Tony had just finished one section of the outer plates, implementing a new idea for the suit that he was rather _proud_ of. He had the feeling that Loki would like it, and his lips turned up into a small smile as he tried to picture Loki’s reaction to seeing the lines of gold across the panelling that matched the shapes of Loki’s armour.

Once that section was finished, Tony had smiled, and admired his work. He’d asked FRIDAY for her opinion, and then he’d picked up the tools he needed for the next section, with every intention of continuing on with the project.

But then his hands had just… stalled.

It was as if something in his mind just went on pause, as if everything ground to a halt. There was… there was just _nothing_.

He didn’t feel upset, or uninspired, or even unmotivated. He just… wasn’t building anything.

And he sighed, he put down the tool. He made a comment to FRIDAY that he was probably done for the evening, at least on that project. He had stalled, but. Tony was _fine_. There was nothing wrong.

Except… creating was what kept him calm. _Inventing_ was what proved that he was useful, that he still had a place in the world– that he could still achieve _something_, no matter what was happening around him, no matter what the rest of the world thought. Because, how could he believe that there was something wrong with him, when he’d just made a suit? Evidence of his abilities were right there, right in front him, tangible and _real._

Whenever he felt down, he always went down to the workshop, whether it was just to tinker, to work on an existing project, or – on the really bad days – to make something entirely from scratch.

But…

What could he do, when his hands just stalled?

_Breathe_.

Well, he supposed he could find something else to do, except. What? What else was there? He didn’t—

When he was upset, he _always_—

_Fuck._

Fucking_ breathe. _

But… breathing became such a struggle. It was—

There was _nothing wrong_.

And yet…

“Boss?” FRIDAY asked. “Is there anything I can do?”

“You’re already doing everything, sweetheart,” Tony said, his words cracked, his breath shattered. FRIDAY really did help, her presence more than soothing. But she still wasn’t _enough_. Tony was feeling the kind of ache that wouldn’t go away with just… _words._

“Boss?” She sounded worried, and– that just made Tony feel _worse_. Not from of any fault of hers, and – somehow – her just being there still _helped._ Just knowing there was someone who would listen, even when he had absolutely nothing to say.

But…

He couldn’t breathe without a gasp, he couldn’t blink without a tear, and he couldn’t _speak_ without a sob.

Once, that was about when he would have reached for a bottle, if not well before. But his trembling fingers curled around his phone instead, and swift enough that he couldn’t risk a change of heart Tony pressed his speed dial and brought the phone to his ear—

And it didn’t go through.

As his phone fell from his fingers and landed beside him on the couch, the ache in Tony’s chest grew worse, and he _hated_ it. Because—

He knew Loki was busy. He _knew_ that, but… rational thought doesn’t make a difference when, for whatever _fucking_ reason, his brain had decided that this was the moment for his whole body to fall apart.

“Boss. Breathe.”

Hell fucking yeah. Tony could do that in broken gasps. He hoped that the effort was what counted, because… he didn’t think that he could manage any clear results.

DUM-E came over, his gears emitting a low, sad whine as he lowered his claw in front of Tony. And Tony curled a hand around DUM-E’s casing, and he pressed his forehead to cool metal– but all it achieved was poor DUM-E getting splashed with salt, and Tony wishing that… he had someone there who could hug him _back_.

Then, as if in an answer to a prayer, the harsh sound of a familiar vibration struck through the air—

And Tony reached out and grasped his phone with such desperation that he almost dropped it.

“Anthony?” Loki sounded a little out of breath, as if he had rushed out from whatever engagement had prevented him from answering when Tony had called. “Are you all right?”

“No,” Tony whispered, the admission coming far easier than it would have only a few months before. Far easier than it would have been, had Tony been talking to anyone else.

“Okay,” Loki replied softly– and Tony heard the shifting of leather on the other end of the line, as if Loki were sitting down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I _can—”_ Tony’s words cut into a sob, and Loki– Loki’s voice was almost breaking already, shit—

“That’s more than fine, Anthony,” Loki started—

“No, you don’t—” Tony groaned, his hand rubbing hard over his face. “I’ve been. I was _fine._ I don’t– then I just started– and I don’t know _why.”_ That was almost more frustrating than any of the rest of it. The not knowing, the… the _stupidity_, of it all.

Because the last time he’d felt this way, he’d sure as hell had a fucking reason. He wasn’t the kind of person who just _cried_, and when he did, it was always due to something pretty fucking major. But this? This had just hit him out of nowhere, had punched a hole through his chest and forced his brain against the side of his skull and it _didn’t make any fucking sense._

It was.

Tony was just.

He was just fucking crying, wasn’t he?

Loki was silent for a long moment. And once… well, maybe once Tony would have wondered if Loki thought this was too hard, that _Tony_ was too much. But, Tony knew he could trust in Loki’s love for him, because he _knew_ that Loki loved him. He really, he _truly_ knew that—

And that…

Well, that just made it easier to fall apart, clutching his phone close to his ear with one hand, the other still pressed against DUM-E, his breathing hitched and his voice rough.

“I don’t know why,” Tony tried again. “But I’m just… I feel like I can’t _breathe.”_

“Perhaps it is not just one thing,” Loki said, his voice soothing. “Perhaps… this is everything, everything around you. Even the strongest person needs a break, when it feels like the world rests on your shoulders.”

“You know, you could almost—” Tony’s voice caught, and he tried to clear his throat. “You could be a cat poster, Lokes.”

“I… I could turn into a cat if it would help to cheer you up?” Loki asked, his voice more hesitant than Tony had heard in a while. And it was such an un-Loki-ish suggestion, that. _Well–_ “But, do _not_ go sharing that around. And I would not do this for anyone else, only… Anthony?”

Tony had a hand pressed hard over his mouth to try and stifle the sob, his eyes squeezing tight enough that they were starting to hurt.

“Anthony, are you—”

“Sorry,” Tony replied– whispered– _sobbed_.

“There is no need for that,” Loki replied– and his voice sounded halfway to a sigh, but Tony knew it was disappointment that his attempt at cheering hadn’t worked, rather than disappointment in Tony himself. The knowing didn’t make Tony feel any better, though. “Can you think of anything that might have happened, to have brought this on?”

“_No,”_ Tony said, the word forced from a throat that was starting to feel raw. “No, I– I was _fine.”_

“I know you were,” Loki replied. “Then… will you tell me about your day, Anthony? Tell me what you’ve been working on?”

Tony drew in a breath to steady himself, the deepest he could manage– but it only made the ache in his chest a little worse, lungs pushing against ribs that felt two sizes too small. “I’ve been working on the forty-seven,” he said. “And I went to see Peter. We– well you see, before that, I went to the Compound. To pick up…”

Tony paused, a wave of… _something_ hitting him head on.

“Huh.”

“Anthony?”

“Well, I… I did see Steve earlier,” Tony admitted. “But it was just– I saw him at the Compound. I’d only gone to pick up that new video game Vision had for Peter to try, and _he_ was there, signing the papers for his parole. We didn’t even– he didn’t even _say_ anything to me. And I was _fine.”_

“But… you’re not fine _now,”_ Loki said. “And whatever the reason, whether it was that, or something else, or nothing at all… that is entirely understandable.”

“_Whatever_ the reason,” Tony echoed, his voice still hitching. “I wish I knew. But I _don’t_, because it wasn’t Steve. It can’t be. I _refuse_ to believe that _Steve fucking Rogers_ can still do this to me. If he left me for dead, then I can fucking do the same.”

Loki was silent for another moment. “Anthony… he _was_ your friend. And sometimes, we still grieve for something that was lost, no matter how badly it ended.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Tony wasn’t sure what else he could say.

“I wish there was more I could do,” Loki whispered. Then– “I _do_ wish that you had let me attack that quinjet and throw him into the ocean when they flew him back from Wakanda. I am sure that the sharks would have appreciated him far more than anyone on land.”

Tony _tried_ to smile. “If that goes on your record, they’ll probably try to stop you from living with me.”

“They wouldn’t succeed.”

“Well, _I_ know that, and you know that. But they’d be a nuisance that we don’t need right now.”

And Tony could hear half a smile in Loki’s voice as he said – “They would be little more than gnats in the air to us.” – but. It didn’t. _Why_ didn’t it help?

“Well,” Tony sighed. “I’ve been falling apart over fucking nothing. Maybe gnats would be enough to break me entirely.”

Loki’s voice went soft. “Anthony, that is nothing to be ashamed of. You are the strongest person I know.” Tony felt that lodge in his throat, but before he could respond– “And… please, let me know if I am not helping. I do not wish to make you feel worse, not ever.”

“You’re helping,” Tony promised wetly. “You always help, you… _always.”_

Tony heard Loki’s shaky sigh—

And then the line went dead.

Tony pulled the phone from his ear, and stared at the screen. It hadn’t dropped out, it– Tony still had signal, and Loki had magicked his own phone to work _anywhere _in the Nine. But… the call had disconnected.

Tony’s hands were shaking again, and he let the phone fall to the cushions once more.

_Breathe._

He’d be okay. He’d make it through. He knew that he would, because he had in the past. Because no matter how much it felt like the world was tearing him apart, it always left him with a few shreds left– if only so that it could tear him apart all over again a few days down the track.

But for now, he would breathe.

And he would get by—

Then cool, familiar, _comforting _arms curled around him, and Tony turned his head with a whine, twisting awkwardly on the couch so that he could bury into Loki’s shoulder—

Falling apart _properly,_ now. Now that he knew Loki was there to hold him tight.

“Shh, ástin mín,” Loki whispered, one hand stroking Tony’s hair, the other holding him tight enough that it was almost _too_ tight, but… it helped far more than Loki could ever know.

“You didn’t have to come home, you know,” Tony said– though his hands clutched at Loki’s Asgardian clothes desperately, not wanting to ever let him go. “I know you’re busy, busy being king—”

“Busy does not matter,” Loki replied, his voice somehow both heartbreakingly soft and cuttingly firm. “Not when it’s you.”

Tony drew in a breath at that, shaky but– deeper than any he’d managed since his first sob.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered.

“You likely would be ruling the world already, without me to hold you back,” Loki said—

And Tony?

Tony _laughed._

It was broken, it was rough, but… it was a laugh. And perhaps it was a start.

Or perhaps… it wasn’t.

Tony still felt like shit. He knew that he would for a while.

But…

With Loki there to hold him, his embrace firm and grounding… it helped Tony _know_ that once he’d made it through the cold halls of this aching hell there would at least be something warm waiting for him, when he came out of the other side.

And that?

Yeah.

That was enough.


End file.
